Lillias
by Lady Berenice
Summary: Things get just a little bit out of hand when Jonathan and Thayet's granddaughter (Kalasin's daughter), comes to visit...
1. Lillias

_Why is it that inspiration only comes when I've got so much other stuff to do? Anyway, here's a teaser from the next generation…  
  
_ **Lillias**  
  
_Why are you here?_ The voice came from nowhere and everywhere, from within her, and yet from some distant corner of the lightless room. _You are a knight already, you have faced me and you have found yourself fit._  
  
_Excuse me_, she thought, remembering only at the last moment that she was not supposed to speak, _I think I would have remembered a disembodied voice in a dark room. _  
  
_Laughter. No, you faced me every day for nearly twelve years. You faced me at every stage of your Trials. Each examination, each match, each race, each contest you stared me in the face and dared me to do my worst. You faced me in each of your classes. You faced me every morning when you got up and decided to go on.  
_  
_Then why do you have **this** here?_  
  
_They love pageantry in this part of the world, haven't you noticed? Not quite so delightfully practical as you Imperials. Besides, there aren't enough nights in the year, much less one of the festivals to do this in Bersone, and it would rather defy the point to have this sort of thing happen for more than one person at a time. I can be in more than one place and one time, of course, but for some reason you humans don't understand that. If I did this every night there I'd only be up to Laodice Garius by now. I usually show the Tortallans their greatest fears, their crimes, their regrets, and their worst nightmares. It's very amusing sometimes. They make it worse here, making them have baths in cold water and stay up all night in the chapel with wet hair and wearing hardly anything at all – and they insist on sending them in through Midwinter too! You have no idea how many of them are scared of freezing to death. Unfortunately, you're a rather devastatingly practical person, so your fears don't really bother you quite so much as they might. Pity. You've really got a very vivid imagination, you know – shame it extends to already having worked out solutions for your fears. Imperials are much less fun at this sort of thing that Easterners. I think I scared a few. Killed a few particularly unpleasant ones. They were the sort that you Imperials tend to deal with by yourselves – you know, what would end as a 'tavern brawl' or 'hunting accident' there they insist on giving me to do here. It's very inconsiderate. So messy. But there have been fine ones through. Fine minds. Great minds. A few that I really shouldn't have let through, in retrospect, but I can't have the sort of numbers that you Imperials have for that – loses its impact. And I do feel that I do get to know their measure better here, though that's ridiculous, of course. I know you all – good, average, those who need a bit more work…   
  
What of me?  
  
What of you? You know who you are, Dama Lillias Haumaranté of the House of Haumaranté, Heiress of Sarain, daughter of Yevgen Delmaran of the House of Delmaran and Kalasin of Conté, King and Queen of Sarain. Granddaughter and niece of Empresses and Kings, 15th-ranked Knight – who could have easily been Duxa, if she hadn't deliberately shot one arrow astray – yes I know that – so she wouldn't have to go into the Display. You are a knight already. You don't need me to tell you that.   
_  
The heavy iron door opened, flooding the stone room with light. There were people waiting outside. Her grandparents – even her grandfather who was in failing health, her uncles and aunts, various relatives, the young knights who had challenged her to this night in their Chamber of Ordeal. She felt that she rather disappointed them when she walked out calmly. From their reports, most crawled out barely alive. Even four decades after her grandfather had opened the rank of knight to women here in Tortall, and two decades since girls had trained at the Palace openly, there had still not been total acceptance of a practice that had been common in the Empire Lillias considered her home for several centuries. Female knights were still very much the minority, though there were always a few female pages and squires, and a female knight most years, or at least every second year.   
  
A lone voice started a cheer, though she knew that it was a dutiful one, as it was expected for the granddaughter of King Jonathan IV, though she was well aware that her ways had alienated many in the Court, despite the two decades of formal relations between the huge Empire to the East, and the small kingdoms that surrounded it.   
  
She allowed herself a smile as she took in the half-awed, half-surly expressions of the arrogant young knights.   
  
Her visit here was suddenly starting to look bearable.   
  



	2. Obligatory Familial Visit

  
_For those who made a stab at the kids names in 'A Meeting of Magics' - some of the answers are in here. Thanks to everyone who tried –you all got quite a few right. _. 

** Obligatory Familial Visit**

To be perfectly fair, the first few weeks of Lillias's first extended trip to her mother's birthplace in more than a decade had been an enjoyable whirlwind of functions, ceremonies and new acquaintances. It had only been when the bulk of the Imperial delegation had left, and Lillias was left to the tender mercies of her grandparents, miscellaneous relatives, and their Court that things had begun to get really strained. It was easy to recall the words of her titular superior as she brushed past the young Tortallan knights on the way to her rooms…   


"I think that it would be a great advantage for you to stay for a few weeks more, and become more familiar with your relatives and their customs," Dama Radanae Gavrillian, Senior Ambassador in the Imperial Diplomatic Service, told her aide as she bustled around her room, re-packing her trunk. 

Even after twenty-two years in the Service, twenty as a diplomat in her own right, the Lady Gavrillian still did her own personal packing, and endless swathes of priceless silks and embroidered brocades carelessly disappeared into her impressive collection of matched luggage. 

Lillias had gaped. While she was perfectly aware that she was being singled out – in being assigned to the Service almost as soon as she was knighted, instead of being given a standard military posting – such open special treatment had been completely unexpected. 

But then again, she was hardly the usual new knight. Ranked fifteenth – a marvellous result, considering that there had been well over a thousand in her year – but her unique position had nothing to do with her abilities, intellectual, martial or magical, extraordinary as they were. She was technically the next Queen of Sarain – a title that meant far more this side of the Roof than in the Empire proper, but one that brought with it some special considerations. She was granddaughter not only of an Empress, through her father, but also granddaughter of King Jonathan IV, who ruled Tortall, one of the larger and more powerful of the lands that lay even further west of Sarain, called, confusingly enough, the 'Eastern Lands'. Sarain was the major trading post between the Eastern Lands and the Empire, and anyone who intended to rule Sarain needed to have a good understanding of both. 

She had spent twelve years at the Academy. She supposed that a few weeks in Tortall would go a long way to understanding half her heritage. 

"Stay as long as you like," Radanae continued, shaking the younger woman out of her reverie. At forty-one, Empress Rislyn's trusted representative and envoy looked every inch the stateswoman, even while gazing critically at a small wine-stain on an otherwise immaculate white toga, "though if you're back in Sarain by Autumn Solstice, Odette will be passing through on her way to the 'Eleven Kingdoms'. You might like to go with her and meet your other neighbours." 

The 'Eleven Kingdoms' were a collection of small states to Sarain's north, and, like the Eastern Lands, Sarain was the main conduct for trade between them and the Empire. 

"I think that particular course has much to recommend it," Radanae went on. "Odette is perhaps the best teacher for dealing with your northerners. Besides," she shrugged. "I should be back for the first day at the Academy, since I promised Rhiannon I'd be there like I was for Ismene and Joachim on their first days. It might also be _politic_ for me to be back in time to get elected as Consul." 

"The wonders of democracy," Lillias observed dryly, handing her honorary aunt a soft suede jewellery-bag. 

The political realities of high-level government were no secret, but it was rare for them to be spoken of so openly, even by members of the very highest segment of the ruling class. Once, the Consul had been as close as the Empire – or, the Republic, as it was then – had to a single ruler. One woman – or, rarely, man – chosen by the Senate, to lead debate, to enact legislation, to call elections or censure rowdy members of the Senate. Now, of course, the role was largely ceremonial, invariably taken by an appointee of the Empress – not openly, of course. The Consul was still elected by the five-hundred odd members of the Senate, who were in turn elected by the millions of Imperial citizens, but, for some reason, since the Empresses had come to power, half a millennia ago, the Consuls had invariably followed Imperial policy, and had equally invariably been of unquestionable loyalty to the Empresses themselves. 

One wonders how such a system prospered. Simple. The Empresses made sure that the people did. There were no famines, few wars, reasonable freedoms of speech, of association, of worship. All – or as close as she could manage it – Imperial citizens had roofs over their heads, food on their tables, calm in the streets, schools and futures for their children, and spare coin to spend on whatever pleasures and vices they might desire. They had judged the majority accurately - the majority who had no wish to give up the stability and comfort of the present for a hazy unknown dream of a future that might never come to pass. 

As for the few who demanded more involvement in governance than the largely uninfluenced local elections for town and village councils (for there was always some influence, if only from the locals themselves)– well, for those prepared to negotiate, those practical, those intelligent, came roles within the government structure – where it became in their own interests to maintain the status quo. For those…not. Well, life is always _unpredictable_. 

Not that the Empire was unchanging. Far from it. But change was managed, it progressed at the direction of the Empresses, and at the pace that they desired. The current period, one of unrivalled peace and prosperity, was one where the Empress Rislyn, Lillias's aunt, was pushing through the more contentious stage of her own reforms – and using her considerable stable of talented politicians and statesmen and women to do so. Radanae would be following her sister-in-law, Dama Selera Carloni into the Consul's Chair, to continue Rislyn's raft of reforms, which had to be securely in place before Ishtar, Rislyn's elder daughter, took the Diadem. Changeovers were always a time of great stress, even when the Diadem seemed destined to pass between two individuals as capable and well-trained as Rislyn and Ishtar, who was Lillias's friend and rival as well as cousin. 

"I don't really have much of a choice, do I?" Somehow the question came out plaintive. 

"No, not really," Lillias's honorary aunt was cheerful. "Do you think that this can be salvaged?" she held up a silk scarf with one thread missing from the border for Lillias's perusal.   
  


There really weren't that many people of her own age around that she could talk to, once the Imperial delegation had left. Since her continuing presence was ostensibly a 'family visit', she did not even have an escort beyond her valet/orderly Zophyia, as it was anticipated that she would travel to Sarain by sea. 

She was homesick. She never thought she would be, but she was. It was ridiculous. She had spent twelve years away from home at the Academy…which in some respects was even more home to her than Sarain was. She wondered what the others were doing now. Ishtar, of course, was now formally the Heir to the Diadem, and doing whatever it was that Heirs to Diadems usually did – namely sit in on boring meetings and trying not to fall asleep. Everyone else...she counted off the younger ones by rote, trying to picture them getting ready for their years at the Academy, enjoying their too-brief summer holidays as well as they could. Sixteen year old Maralis – another cousin, Ishtar's sister, the Empress's 'spare'. Her own sibs – Ioan, who was fifteen, and Aurelia – always called 'Lia' - who was eleven. Lia's best friend, Ismene, who was Dama Radanae's elder daughter. Issy's sibs – nine-year-old Joachim, and the irrepressible six-year-old, Rhiannon, who was starting at the Academy. Then there were the other cousins – the ones she shared with Radanae's brood – twins Myles and Buriramné, the same age as Joachim, both at the Academy, though Myles at least showed signs of wanting to leave. Buri wouldn't walk away from anything, even if she hated it – but she seemed content enough at the Academy. 

She shook her head. It was no use letting herself daydream, to go back into the comforting world of childhood. She was an adult now – if the white belt, the titles, the nagging sting from the new tattoo weren't evidence enough - with an adult's responsibilities and obligations. 

Her family, on their own, were – more than bearable. Her grandfather, King Jonathan IV, was in his sixties, and now clearly in ill health. He had fought numerous wars, battled endless disasters in his reign, but overall, even Imperial commentators had to concede that he had more than earned the name by which many of his subjects called him. Jonathan the Great. But the decades of rule were taking their toll, not to mention his use of the Dominion Jewel, which tied him to the land, allowing him to sense every inch of his Kingdom, but which also drained him as the years went on. Her grandmother – Queen Thayet – was still a ravishingly beautiful woman, and it was through her that Lillias's own claim to Sarain formally originated. Formally, of course, for Thayet was the daughter of the last 'legitimate' ruler of Sarain. That is, before twenty years of civil war set in, and Sarain was conquered by Lillias's other grandmother, Empress Vanaria, who had died before Lillias was born. 

Looking at her grandparents, it wasn't difficult to see just where Lillias had her siblings had inherited their good looks – though, truth be told, no one in her father's family was exactly lacking in that area either. Lillias favoured her father's Delmaran side a touch more – tall, lithe, with dark brown hair, and dark blue-grey eyes, but there was a touch of the Conté in her stubborn chin, more than a trace of Thayet in the strong bones. Truth be told, there was sufficient similarity between Lillias and her cousin Ishtar that they could substitute for each other, enough so that they could fool minor courtiers, or for security reasons. 

As for her uncles – well, Crown Prince Roald was a decent enough sort. Quiet, and seemed in no way impatient for the throne, though he was the same age as her father, who had already held the Saren throne for more than half his life. Crown Princess Shinkokami was gracious and elegant, and reminded her somewhat of Queen Natseyah of Maren, an Imperial knight who had found herself co-ruler of the kingdom directly to the west of Sarain by the simple process of marrying its king. Their children, her cousins – Princes Jonathan and Gareth, and Princess Naomi, were pleasant enough when they were in direct conversation. 

As for her other uncles – Prince Liam wasn't actually in the capital, Corus, being engaged in something rather dull-sounding with the Bazhir tribes to the south. Prince Jasson wasn't terribly interested in her save to request that she practise her weapons-work with some of the squires and young knights so that they could have some experience in the Imperial style. Aunt Lianne – who was married to Dama Radanae's brother, Sir Kelvar – visited Sarain semi-frequently – whenever she and her husband were passing by on whatever mission or adventure they were currently on. 

No, her family wasn't the problem. It was a pity everyone else was. 

It was clear that she wasn't going to find a niche. There were female knights, true, but they were few in number, and this time of year, most were away from the Palace doing whatever it was that Tortallan knights did. Even after more than a decade of being a regular presence during the Tortallan Ordeals each winter, they still managed to find themselves assigned to the less 'glamorous' jobs. Setting up camps for disaster relief. Training county militias. Ceremonial guards for princesses. The majority of girls of noble birth became 'ladies', which, as far as Lillias could see, consisted to sitting around, dancing at parties, sewing rather badly, and then getting married and having babies. They didn't have much in common with Lillias – except perhaps an appreciation for good clothes – and looked at her with envy or open dislike. The male knights weren't any better. They could be divided into three groups. The first who adored her with puppy-like eyes, the second who tried to belittle her, and the third who tried to best her on the practice field. The first could be ignored, as could the second – until one of them was found having been flung out of a second-floor window onto a midden heap, whereupon all disparaging remarks stopped, and the third… 

Well, Lillias was rather good at the martial arts, even by Imperial standards – which, she had no hesitation to say – were rather higher than Tortallan ones. 

Radanae had said that she should be back in Sarain at Autumn Solstice at the latest to go north. What a laugh. She was sure she would be back home before the first leaf fell, or the first storm came. Even wrangling with the lowlanders, shocking the courtiers, and falling down mountains had to be better than the Tortallan Court.   
  


_Notes: Yes, for those who have picked up the hints, the Empire is what happens when an absolutist government actually works, and the dictator isn't too much of a self-serving lunatic with a penchant for immensely flattering self-portraits of questionable artistic merit. This work is in the 'fantasy' category for a reason. There's long-term planning, stability (the average reign of an Empress is between twenty and thirty years), and campaign financing isn't really an issue when there's no point in running an election campaign. The elite keep the posturing and egoism to manageable levels in public, aren't too extravagant when it comes to building projects, aren't too blatant about nepotism and favouritism (i.e., while, mysteriously, most officials are from powerful factions and families, they're competent too), and keep corruption, extortion and petty bribery to a minimum. In return, governments look ahead longer than the next election campaign, which accounts for the generally good management one observes in the Empire, from extensive preparations for disaster, be they for famine, flood, drought, fire, landslide or earthquake, to well-maintained communications and transport links, to a largely fair and efficient tax system (Rislyn's legacy). There's also considerable franchise and suffrage among citizens – there's little Diadem interference with the election of town councils and assemblies, even up to the provincial level (though, of course, the elections in the more important provinces are watched with great interest). However, while there's little interference with the elections themselves – political groups, parties, and individuals who have radically different viewpoints from the Empress as such – are 'not encouraged' to put forward candidates. However, the spectrum of Imperial politics is broad, and there are actually fewer extremist groups than one would expect – as the Empresses try not to have the conditions that cause them. More cynically, such groups never get large enough to be of any real threat. Their charismatic leaders always seem to die in road accidents, tavern brawls, or of mysterious fevers and food poisoning. **Coincidentally**, very shortly after their deaths, it's usually also revealed that they were con-artists, extortionists, blackmailers, or child molesters._   
__   


  
  
  
  



	3. AuthorsNotes

Author's Notes:

I apologise that this story hasn't had the attention it deserves, as I've been concentrating on the events that precede it. I don't intend to come back to this story until those are sorted out, all seventeen-years worth. Adult-Lillias will be back as soon as her elders have worked their way through the last of their post-adolescent angst and other assorted problems. Between the unwelcome intrusion of real life into my writing career and the emotional baggage that Lillias' honorary uncles and aunts (and real aunts) lug around with them, it may take a while... 

Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing and checking this story, you make it all worthwhile! 

Bonus Notes!

Heraldry 

Like many chivalric societies, the Imperials have a complex system of heraldry, and any given individual may use several different designs, given the situation. 

Every knight has a 'personal' heraldic symbol. It is bestowed upon them at their knighting, and usually makes some sort of comment on their personality, strengths or idiosyncrasies. A knight would use this symbol when acting in a private capacity, such as a jousting competition, or as a personal seal. The formal representation of most knights' personal symbols would also include an intricate purple-and-red border around the outside of the shield or banner, which indicates the year that the knight graduated from the Knights' Academy. An 'honorary' knight, someone who has been given the title and status of a knight but did not go to the Knights' Academy, does not have such a border on their shield, banner, etc. 

Personal symbols of some characters:

Radanae: Crossed gold scrolls on black. Yevgen: Silver sword and crown on blue. Kay: Gold leopard on blue. Vas: Silver peacock and crossed spears on green. Lara: Green leaves on black. 

Furthermore, every noble House has its own symbol. These usually make some sort of comment on their origins. This is especially prevalent in the families who claim non-human ancestry. Knights use variations of their House symbol that indicate their relative position in the House for very formal occasions, such as state funerals, coronations, the opening of the Senate, etc. 

Some House symbols:

Gavrillian: Black wolf on green with an amber border. Delmaran: Silver ship on blue. Astenovsky: Green tree on silver. Ferox: black anvil and sword on red.  

The symbol of the Empire is the red triple-headed Eagle on a purple background. Members of the immediate Imperial family bear variations of this as they do of their House symbols, while other variations are used to mark ranks in the Army, Navy, Diplomatic Service and other branches of government. Those serving the Empire use such symbols in an official capacity, such as when they are on active military duty or on a diplomatic mission. 

Example: 

Dama Radanae Gavrillian

Personal Symbol: Crossed gold scrolls on black – used for personal occasions, such as jousting competitions (not that she enters any), as a seal or letterhead for private correspondence, and as the little tattoo at the base of her neck for quick identification and recovery after a messy battle.

House Symbol: Black wolf on green with an amber border – used for formal occasions, such as the opening of a Senate session, formal Council sessions (very rare – most Council sessions are the Imperial equivalent of 'casual Friday'), coronations, state funerals, etc. As the second knighted child she would bear a silver crescent near the bottom of the shield, but as the Heir, the wolf would have a silver collar around its throat. When she becomes Head of the House (when her mother dies), she would remove the crescent and collar, and the wolf would have a silver circlet around its head. 

Imperial Symbol: As a diplomat, red triple-headed eagle holding a silver scroll on a purple background, with more subtle gradings indicating her rank within the service. 

A Note on the Empire:

While there are definite influences from Republican and Imperial Rome, Byzantium, the Middle Ages, the Renaissance and even modern liberal democracies in the fictional Empire, I've always thought that if the Empire did have a modern-day equivalent in our world, it would probably be something like China. Granted, Rislyn has much better dress sense than anyone in the Politburo, and is considerably more media-savvy and sophisticated, but the general feel of the place is the same, though rather subtler (and no one spits in the street, of course). Though, considering how ruthless Ris is, I don't even want to THINK about how she might have handled the SARS crisis….

Basically, while there isn't the extent of political freedom there is in most modern Western liberal democracies (though arguably, their private and social freedoms probably go as far as any, maybe even a bit further than most), the ruling class also don't go around killing everyone who has a difference of opinion, nor to they go into the full-scale oppression business – rather, I gather that the cleverer Empresses, like Rislyn, probably encourage some level of dissent, just so they know who to keep an eye on in the future, and to give hot-heads a safety valve. Unlike a lot of autocracies, the Empire knows perfectly well that the price of having a sophisticated education system and a well-educated populace is that there are going to be flare-ups of the sort every now and again.  


End file.
